Remembrance
by CourftheCat
Summary: He needs a little time to think it over. He needs a little space, just on his own. FINAL PART OF CAPABILITIES.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I'm back! So this is the third and final part of Capabilities! Enjoy!**

Feuilly sits in the almost silent company of Grantaire. The only noise is the heart rate monitor bleeping monotonously, making sure Grantaire is actually alive. It's his third day in the hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness but never entering a state of coherency. The doctors are saying it was just the shock of all his memories coming back at once that's keeping him under. Well, all the doctors except Joly, _of course_ – he thinks Grantaire could be in some form of coma. Of course he never voices these concerns around Enjolras, who is adamant that _Grantaire could be awake right now for all we know_. Joly just nods and replies with what he hopes is positivity, while he looks at his feet and wrings his hands in exactly the same way he does when he's trying to convince Bossuet and Chetta that maybe it's a false positive, maybe he doesn't have a rare terminal disease. But Enjolras appreciates Joly's concern and tries not to think about Grantaire in a coma for the rest of his life.

When Grantaire's eyes fly open and he gasps for breath, Feuilly hits the assistance button without a second thought. The first time he'd woken up, Enjolras had been with him and had thought that maybe things could be normal again. But Grantaire had merely drifted into consciousness, held out his arm to touch Enjolras' cheek and slurred out something that sounded like "Love you Pollo" before drifting back into his sort-of delirium.

As the doctors flood into the room, Feuilly steps out for a moment and glances over at Enjolras. He's lying across two and a half chairs, twisting restlessly in his sleep and murmuring Grantaire's name over and over. Feuilly's face softens into one of concern – this is the first time Enjolras has slept since he first arrived at the hospital, and Feuilly doesn't want to wake him. But he knows that Enjolras takes about ten minutes to pull himself out of unconsciousness and Grantaire might want to see him. Feuilly sighs and walks over to his friend.

"Jolras," he murmurs softly, nudging him with his arm. Enjolras' face stiffens and he opens his eyes cautiously.

"Feuilly," he breathes, casting his eyes to Grantaire's room, "What's happening?"

"I think he's awake." Enjolras sits up quickly, holding his head as the world spins around him. "He might want to see you, Jol." Enjolras nods. The doctors come out of Grantaire's room and nod to Feuilly. He claps Enjolras on the shoulder and gets up.

"Grantaire?" Feuilly calls softly.

"Come in, Stéphane," Grantaire replies. He smiles as Feuilly sits down. "How's life?" Feuilly shrugs.

"Better," he grins. "It's good to have you back, R."

"It's good to be back." Grantaire looks absentmindedly out the window and sees Enjolras. He freezes.

"R?" Feuilly taps Grantaire to get him to look at him.

"Can I see him?" Feuilly nods.

"Jolras?" Feuilly calls as he walks out the door. "You're up."


	2. Chapter 2

Enjolras stops dead at the door. He wants to go in and see Grantaire again, but part of him is telling him to just walk away – he was doing okay on his own, without Grantaire. He was growing in confidence every day. But the other part of him is adamant to walk through that door and see the man he loves. It's that part of him that wins in the end, and he walks almost robotically into the room. Grantaire looks at him.

"Frederic," he murmurs.

"Raoul," Enjolras chokes out, before feeling a tear on his cheek and falling to his knees beside Grantaire. He takes Grantaire's hand and attempts to press kisses to his knuckles but finds himself letting out a sob every time he opens his mouth. "Raoul, I – I'm so s-sorry, I -"

"Frederic -"

"Raoul, I take it all back! I – I love you and I com-completely unders-stand if you d-don't want me b-back, but…" at this point he becomes completely incoherent and starts hiccupping. Grantaire takes him into his arms and rocks him gently.

"Shh, Frederic, it's okay,I don't care about what you said, it's forgotten." Enjolras looks up at him and glares at him through his tears. Grantaire holds his hands up in surrender. "Pun not intended, honest." He sighs. "Enjolras, I know it's been a long time. And it's difficult for me too. I mean… right until that last moment, when I jumped, I thought you hated me. I didn't think that you meant it when you said you wanted me to come home. And then I jumped, and you yelled my name and… it was that moment that I realised you still loved me. And, I know it's crazy and sappy and fast and kind-of cliché, but… would you take me back?" Enjolras' mouth hangs open.

"Grantaire," he begins, "It's been over half a year." _I never stopped thinking about you._

"I know."

"I thought you were dead." _I never forgave myself_.

"I know."

"I could be with someone else." _I never got rid of your engagement ring_.

"I know."

"You just expect me to love you after all that?" _I never stopped loving you_.

"I expect you to hate me," Grantaire looks at his bed sheets. "I understand that it's been a long time and you could be with someone else. Enjolras, I don't _expect_ you to love me. In all honesty I'm kind-of only just hoping that you won't walk out of this room and demand a restraining order. And I feel like such a douche -"

"Douche." Enjolras chuckles a little. "You didn't forget it was my favourite insult."

"I never forgot," Grantaire replies. Enjolras raises his eyebrows. "Okay, maybe I forgot. But we're getting off topic, Frederic. I feel like such a doucheflake because I made you go through all that and I just forgot you. So no. I don't just expect you to love me."

"Grantaire, I…" Enjolras sighs. "I need to think about this. It's weird, you know. I was so ready for you to hate me and now you want me to take you back, and… Raoul, I don't know if I can do that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it's been such a while guys! I hate having writer's block :s hope the chapter satisfies though : )**

Grantaire is discharged the next day, and he's surprised when Enjolras tells him there's a spare room in his apartment. It's not as if there's anywhere else he can stay, anyway. So he gladly accepts the offer and moves in without complaint.

"What do you want for dinner?" Enjolras asks. Grantaire shrugs. "I can make… microwaveable lasagne?" Grantaire laughs.

"I can cook if you like."

"What? No!" Enjolras glances at him. "You're only just moving in, I can cook for a night, it's _fine_." Grantaire holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, if you say so."

"Grantaire!" Enjolras dashes out the kitchen, a cloud of smoke following. "Grantaire!" Grantaire runs into the kitchen and splutters.

"What did you do?" he yells, opening the back door and windows. "How do you go wrong with microwaveable lasagne?"

"I… I tried to grill some chips, and… well…"

"You set the grill pan on fire?"

"Yeah… um…" Grantaire grabs a tea towel and dumps it on the small flame.

"Enjolras, do you want me to cook?"

"No! Really, it's fine." Grantaire holds up a black chip.

"Enjolras, if you cook this anymore it's going to turn into a diamond." He chucks the chip in the bin. "So I'm going to cook, and you're going to get out and let me." Enjolras huffs something under his breath and Grantaire laughs.

"At least let me help." Grantaire rolls his eyes.

"Fine, " he groans melodramatically. "Boil the kettle."

What happens next is completely Grantaire's fault, he should never have slipped on that water and got kicked out. But he did. And he keeps rethinking it over in his mind as he makes his way to the Musain, where they might just let him stay for the night. But he missed an important part to the story, one that Enjolras realises and is constantly kicking himself for, because Grantaire doesn't have a phone that Enjolras can ring him on and tell him to come home, it was all a misunderstanding.

So here's what happened, as Enjolras remembers it…

"_At least let me help." Grantaire rolls his eyes._

"_Fine," he groans melodramatically. "Boil the kettle." As Enjolras dances around Grantaire to get to the kitchen sink, he almost feels like he's doing ballet. But manoeuvring back to the mains supply is more difficult, partly because of the full kettle, partly because of the __**over**__full kettle. Because Enjolras gets a little distracted watching Grantaire's movements around the kitchen. Not __**him**__, nope, he does not find Grantaire __**himself**__attractive, he loves Grantaire's kitchen skills. He loves them so much he doesn't pay any attention to the full-to-the-brim kettle he pulls away from the sink, or the half-a-kettle-full of water that gets thrown onto the kitchen floor. He just concentrates on Grantaire's movements as he puts the kettle onto the heat pad thing (A/N. guys I have no idea what it's called but you know what I mean, right?) and he turns away for a second to grab the pasta bag Grantaire asked for. He turns back in time to see Grantaire flying towards him, pinning him to the cupboards. And his face is snuggled quite cosily into Enjolras' neck. Enjolras shoves him off and into the opposite cupboard._

"_What are you doing, Grantaire?!" he yells. "I've already told you, NO! I'm not ready for this!" Grantaire's mouth hangs open._

"_What?! No! I slipped! I -"_

"_Of course you did," Enjolras growls sarcastically. He looks Grantaire in the eye. "I was prepared to give you a chance, Grantaire. You just blew it. Get out!"_

"_Wha… what?"_

"_Out! Now!"_

Quarter of an hour later and Enjolras sees the water, the slight mud from Grantaire's shoes that he never took off, and Enjolras realises his mistake. It's too late now. Grantaire has no phone and Enjolras has no way of knowing where he's gone. And the last thing he wants is a repeat of last time.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Okay, I'm back! So first of all, I'd just like to say a HUGE apology for no updates in the last I don't even know how many months. Basically, I've had a load of writer's block around this fic and I haven't been able to write anything to save my life; I've also just had my first French oral and writing GCSE exams in the last month so I've been revising for that; my Word trial ran out (I didn't even know I was on a trial) and my dad doesn't want to keep it, so I had to find another way of getting fics onto here; and on top of that my laptop's been playing up over the last few weeks and my dad only just got it fixed. Never fear, however: I am back! With a new chapter! Enjoy :)**_

Grantaire sighs as he slumps down at the bus stop outside the Musain. They wouldn't let him in, and he doesn't want to ask the others. He doesn't want to have to explain himself. He bitterly wipes away the single tear from his cheek. Too late - it has frozen on his cheek, and he realises just how difficult tonight is going to be.

He doesn't look at the person who begins to set up camp beside him.

"Tough night?" he asks. Grantaire shrugs.

"Something like that."

"What happened, R?" Grantaire looks up into Feuilly's trustworthy eyes and breaks down. He subconsciously leans forward as strong arms wrap around him, burying his face into Feuilly's shoulder. Feuilly feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and sighs. He knows what it says even before he looks at it. Any luck? He looks over at Grantaire, face red and eyes puffy.

Not yet, he texts back. Anyone else would be taking sides. Feuilly's the only neutral one, and he needs to get to the bottom of this before he tells Enjolras he's found him.

"What happened, R?" he repeats. Grantaire sniffs.

"I got chucked out..." he murmurs. "It was my fault - I shouldn't have slipped, I should have been more careful, I..." from here everything is incoherent, and Feuilly can do nothing except pat his back and hand him a pack of tissues. Grantaire falls asleep on Feuilly soon after this, and Feuilly is left to think and watch his breath come out in steam. He's stuck between two friends playing the blame game on themselves. Feuilly frowns, trying to figure out how to get it through tho the two men that it was an accident - a slip and a misinterpretation. Nothing more. But that's easier said than done.

So for the night, Feuilly just watches over Grantaire, stocking up on chocolate from the shop next to the bus stop, because he can't let Grantaire drift back to alcohol over this. Grantaire wakes up a couple of times. They go for walks, and Feuilly makes sure to steer clear from teh Seine. When Grantaire catches onto this he stops dead and glares daggers into Feuilly.

"You think I'd do it?" he growls. "You really think I'd jump? You don't trust me enough to walk over a stupid bridge? Do you think I've learned nothing?!" he begins to cry again and Feuilly gives in, walking slowly towards the Seine. "No..." he murmurs. "No, Stéphane Feuilly, don't you dare take me near that bridge."

"R..."

"No! Feuilly if I get anywhere near that bridge I'm gonna jump. And I can't keep jumping when things get bad. I need to fix this." Feuilly grins despite himself. Because now perhaps Enjolras and Grantaire can fix themselves.


End file.
